[The following is a talk by the Ven. Mahāsi Sayādaw Agga Mahā Pandita U Sobhana
given to his disciples on their induction into Vipassanā Meditation at Sāsana
Yeikthā Meditation Centre, Rangoon, Burma. It Was translated from the Burmese by
U Nyi Nyi]

The practice of Vipassanā or Insight Meditation is the effort made by the
meditator to understand correctly the nature of the psycho-physical phenomena
taking place in his own body. Physical phenomena are the things or objects which
one clearly perceives around one. The whole of one’s body that one clearly
perceives constitutes a group of material qualities (rūpa). Psychical or mental phenomena are acts of consciousness or
awareness (nāma). These
(nāma-rūpa)
are clearly perceived to be happening whenever they are seen, heard, smelt,
tasted, touched, or thought of. We must make ourselves aware of them by
observing them and noting thus: ‘Seeing, seeing’, ‘hearing, hearing,’ ‘smelling
smelling,’ ‘tasting, tasting,’ ‘touching, touching,’ or thinking, thinking.’

Every time one sees, hears, smells, tastes, touches or thinks, on should
make a note of the fact. But in the beginning of one’s practice, one cannot make
a note of every one of these happenings. One should, therefore, begin with
noting those happenings which are conspicuous and easily perceivable.

With every act of breathing, the abdomen rises and falls, which movement
is always evident. This is the material quality known as vāyo-dhātu (the element of motion). One should begin by noting this
movement, which may be done by the mind intently observing the abdomen. You will
find the abdomen rising when you breathe in, and falling when you breathe out.
The rising should be noted mentally as ‘rising’, and the falling as ‘falling’.
If the movement is not evident by just noting it mentally, keep touching the
abdomen with the palm of your hand. Do not alter the manner of your breathing.
Neither slow it down, nor make it faster. Do not breathe too vigorously, either.
You will tire if you change the manner of your breathing. Breathe steadily as
usual and note the rising and falling of the abdomen as they occur. Note it
mentally, not verbally.

In Vipassanā meditation, what you name or say doesn’t matter. What really
matters is to know or perceive. While noting the rising of the abdomen, do so
from the beginning to the end of the movement just as if you are seeing it with
your eyes. Do the same with the falling movement. Note the rising movement in
such a way that your awareness of it is concurrent with the movement itself. The
movement and the mental awareness of it should coincide in the same way as a
stone thrown hits the target. Similarly with the falling movement.

Your mind may wander elsewhere while you are noting the abdominal
movement. This must also be noted by mentally saying ‘wandering, wandering.’
When this has been noted once or twice, the mind stops wandering, in which case
you go back to noting the rising and falling of the abdomen. If the mind reaches
somewhere, note as ‘reaching, reaching.’ Then go back to the rising and falling
of the abdomen. If you imagine meeting somebody, note as ‘meeting, meeting’.
Then go back to the rising and falling. If you imagine meeting and talking to
somebody, note as ‘talking, talking.’

In short, whatever thought or reflection occurs should be noted. If you
imagine, note as ‘imagining’. If you think, ‘thinking’. If you plan, ‘planning’.
If you perceive, ‘perceiving’. If you reflect, ‘reflecting’. If you feel happy,
‘happy’. If you feel bored, ‘bored’. If you feel glad, ‘glad’. If you feel
disheartened, ‘disheartened’. Noting all these acts of consciousness is called
cittānupassanā.

Because we fail to note these acts of consciousness, we tend to identify
them with a person or individual. We tend to think that it is ‘I’ who is
imagining, thinking, planning, knowing ( or perceiving). We think that there is
a person who from childhood onwards has been living and thinking. Actually, no
such person exists. There are instead only these continuing and successive acts
of consciousness. That is why we have to note these acts of consciousness and
know them for what they are. That is why we have to note each and every act of
consciousness as it arises. When so noted, it tends to disappear. We then go
back to noting the rising and falling of the abdomen.

When you have sat meditating for long, sensations of stiffness and heat
will arise in your body. These are to be noted carefully too. Similarly with
sensations of pain and tiredness. All of these sensations are dukkha-vedanā (feeling of unsatisfactoriness) and noting them is
vedanānupassanā. Failure or omission to note these sensations makes you
think, “I am stiff, I am feeling hot, I am in pain. I was all right a moment
ago. Now I am uneasy with these unpleasant sensations.” The identification of
these sensations with the ego is mistaken. There is really no ‘I’ involved, only
a succession of one new unpleasant sensation after another.

It is just like a continuous succession of new electrical impulses that
light up electric lamps. Every time unpleasant contacts are encountered in the
body, unpleasant sensations arise one after another. These sensations should be
carefully and intently noted, whether they are sensations of stiffness, of heat
or of pain. In the beginning of the yogī’s meditation practice, these sensations
may tend to increase and lead to a desire to change his posture. This desire
should be noted, after which the yogī should go back to noting the sensations of
stiffness, heat, etc.

’Patience leads to Nibbāna,’ as the saying goes. This saying is most
relevant in meditation effort. One must be patient in meditation. If one shifts
or changes one’s posture too often because one cannot be patient with the
sensation of stiffness or heat that arises,
samādhi
(good concentration) cannot develop. If
samādhi
cannot develop, insight cannot result and there can be no attainment of
magga
(the path that leads to Nibbāna),
phala
(the fruit of that path) and Nibbāna. That is why patience is needed in
meditation. It is patience mostly with unpleasant sensations in the body like
stiffness, sensations of heat and pain, and other sensations that are hard to
bear. One should not immediately give up one’s meditation on the appearance of
such sensations and change one’s meditation posture. One should go on patiently,
just noting as ‘stiffness, stiffness’ or ‘hot, hot’. Moderate sensations of
these kinds will disappear if one goes on noting them patiently. When
concentration is good and strong, even intense sensations tend to disappear. One
then reverts to noting the rising and falling of the abdomen.

One will of course have to change one’s posture if the sensations do not
disappear even after one has noted them for a long time, and if on the other
hand they become unbearable. One should then begin noting as ‘wishing to change,
wishing to change.’ If the arm rises, note as ‘rising, rising.’ If it moves,
note as ‘moving, moving’. This change should be made gently and noted as
‘rising, rising,’ ‘moving, moving’ and ‘touching, touching.’

If the body sway’s, ‘swaying, swaying.’ If the foot rises, ‘rising,
rising’. If it moves, ‘moving, moving.’ If it drops, ‘dropping, dropping.’ If
there is no change, but only static rest, go back to noting the rising and
falling of the abdomen. There must be no intermission in between, only
contiguity between a preceding act of noting and a succeeding one, between a
preceding samādhi (state of
concentration) and a succeeding one, between a preceding act of intelligence and
a succeeding one. Only then will there be successive and ascending stages of
maturity in the yogī’s state of intelligence.
Magga
and Phala ñāna (knowledge of the
path and its fruition) are attained only when there is this kind of gathering
momentum. The meditative process is like that of producing fire by energetically
and unremittingly rubbing two sticks of wood together so as to attain the
necessary intensity of heat (when the flame arises).

In the same way, the noting in Vipassanā meditation should be continual
and unremitting, without any resting interval between acts of noting whatever
phenomena may arise. For instance, if a sensation of itchiness intervenes and
the yogī desires to scratch because it is hard to bear, both the sensation and
the desire to get rid of it should be noted, without immediately getting rid of
the sensation by scratching.

If one goes on perseveringly noting thus, the itchiness generally
disappears, in which case one reverts to noting the rising and falling of the
abdomen. If the itchiness does not in fact disappear, one has of course to
eliminate it by scratching. But first, the desire to do so should be noted. All
the movements involved in the process of eliminating this sensation should be
noted, especially the touching, pulling and pushing and scratching movements,
with an eventual reversion to noting the rising and falling of the abdomen.

Every time you make a change of posture, you begin with noting your
intention or desire to make the change, and go on to noting every movement
closely, such as rising from the sitting posture, raising the arm, moving and
stretching it. You should make the change at the same time as noting the
movements involved. As your body sways forward, note it. As you rise, the body
becomes light and rises. Concentrating your mind on this, you should gently note
as ‘rising, rising.’

The yogī should behave as if he were a weak invalid. People in normal
health rise easily and quickly or abruptly. Not so with feeble invalids, who do
so slowly and gently. The same is the case with people suffering from ‘backache’
who rise gently lest the back hurt and cause pain.

So also with meditating yogīs. They have to make their changes of posture
gradually and gently; only then will mindfulness, concentration and insight be
good. Begin therefore with gentle and gradual movements. When rising, the yogī
must do so gently like an invalid, at the same time noting as ‘rising, rising.’
Not only this: though the eye sees, the yogī must act as if he does not see.
Similarly when the ear hears. While meditating, the yogī’s concern is only to
note. What he sees and hears are not his concern. So whatever strange or
striking things he may see or hear, he must behave as if he does not see or hear
them, merely noting carefully.

When making bodily movements, the yogī should do so gradually as if he
were a weak invalid, gently moving the arms and legs, bending or stretching
them, bending down the head and bringing it up. All these movements should be
made gently. When rising from the sitting posture, he should do so gradually,
noting as ‘rising, rising.’ When straightening up and standing, note as
‘standing, standing.’ When looking here and there, note as ‘looking, seeing.’
When walking note the steps, whether they are taken with the right or the left
foot. You must be aware of all the successive movements involved, from the
raising of the foot to the dropping of it. Note each step taken, whether with
the right foot or the left foot. This is the manner of noting when one walks
fast.

It will be enough if you note thus when walking fast and walking some
distance. When walking slowly or doing the
cankama
walk (walking up and down), three movements should be noted in each step:
when the foot is raised, when it is pushed forward, and when it is dropped.
Begin with noting the raising and dropping movements. One must be properly aware
of the raising of the foot. Similarly, when the foot is dropped, one should be
properly aware of the ‘heavy’ falling of the foot.

One must walk, noting as ‘raising, dropping’ with each step. This noting
will become easier after about two days. Then go on to noting the three
movements as described above, as ‘raising, pushing forward, dropping.’ In the
beginning, it will suffice to note one or two movements only, thus ‘right step,
left step’ when walking fast and ‘raising, dropping’ when walking slowly. If
when walking thus, you want to sit down, note as ‘wanting to sit down, wanting
to sit down.’ When actually sitting down, note concentrated the ‘heavy’ falling
of your body.

When you are seated, note the movements involved in arranging your legs
and arms. When there are no such movements, but just a stillness (static rest)
of the body, note the rising and falling of the abdomen. While noting thus and
if stiffness of your limbs and sensation of heat in any part of your body arise,
go on to note them. Then back to ‘rising, falling’. While noting thus and if a
desire to lie down arises, note it and the movements of your legs and arms as
you lie down. The raising of the arm, the moving of it, the resting of the elbow
on the floor, the swaying of the body, the stretching of legs, the listing of
the body as one slowly prepares to lie down, all these movements should be
noted.

To note as you lie down thus is important. In the course of this movement
(that is, lying down), you can gain a distinctive knowledge (that is,
magga-ñāna
and phala-ñāna = the knowledge of the path and its fruition). When
samādhi
(concentration) and ñāna (insight ) are strong, the distinctive knowledge
can come at any moment. It can come in a single ‘bend’ of the arm or in a single
‘stretch’ of the arm. Thus it was that the Venerable Ananda became an Arahat.

The Ven. Ananda was trying strenuously to attain Arahatship overnight on
the eve of the first Buddhist council. He was practising the whole night the
form of Vipassanā meditation known as
kāyagatāsati, noting his steps, right and left, raising, pushing forward and
dropping of the feet; noting, happening by happening, the mental desire to walk
and the physical movement involved in walking. Although this went on till it was
nearly dawn, he had not yet succeeded in attaining Arahatship, Realising that he
had practised the walking meditation to excess and that, in order to balance
samādhi
(concentration) and viriya
(effort), he should practise meditation in the lying posture for a while, he
entered his chamber. He sat on the couch and then lay himself down. While doing
so and noting ‘lying, lying,’ he attained Arahatship in an instant.

The Ven. Ananda was only a
Sotāpanna
(that is, a Stream-winner or one who has attained the first stage on the
path to Nibbāna) before he thus lay himself down. From Sotāpanna, he continued to meditate and reached
Sakadāgāmī
(that is, the condition of the Once-returner or one who has attained the
second stage on the path), Anāgāmī
(that is, the state of the Non-returner or one who has attained the third stage
on the path) and Arahatship (that is, the condition of the noble one who has
attained the last stage on the path.) Reaching these three successive stages of
the higher path took only a little while. Just think of this example of the Ven.
Ananda’s attainment of Arahatship. Such attainment can come at any moment and
need not take long.

That is why the yogī should note with diligence all the time. He should
not relax in his noting, thinking “this little lapse should not matter much.”
All movements involved in lying down and arranging the arms and legs should be
carefully and unremittingly noted. If there is no movement, but only stillness
(of the body), go back to noting the rising and falling of the abdomen. Even
when it is getting late and time for sleep, the yogī should not go to sleep yet,
dropping his noting. A really serious and energetic yogī should practise
mindfulness as if he were forgoing his sleep altogether. He should go on
meditating till he falls asleep. If the meditation is good and has the upper
hand, he will not fall asleep. If, on the other hand, drowsiness has the upper
hand, he will fall asleep. When he feels sleepy, he should note as ‘sleepy,
sleepy,’ if his eyelids droop, ‘drooping’; if they become heavy or leaden,
‘heavy’; if the eyes become smarting, ‘smarting’. Noting thus, the drowsiness
may pass and the eyes become ‘clear’ again.

The yogī should then note as ‘clear, clear’ and go on to note the rising
and falling of the abdomen. However perseveringly the yogī may go on meditating,
if real drowsiness intervenes, he does fall asleep. It is not difficult to fall
asleep, in fact, it is easy. If you meditate in the lying posture, you gradually
become drowsy and eventually fall asleep. That is why the beginner in meditation
should not meditate too much in the lying posture. He should meditate much more
in the sitting and walking postures of the body. But as it grows late and
becomes time for sleep, he should meditate in the lying position, noting the
rising and falling movements of the abdomen. He will then naturally
(automatically) fall asleep.

The time he is asleep is the resting time for the yogī. But for the
really serious yogī, he should limit his sleeping time to about four hours. This
is the ‘midnight time’ permitted by the Buddha. Four hours’ sleep is quite
enough. If the beginner in meditation thinks that four hours’ sleep is not
enough for health, he may extend it to five or six hours. Six hours’ sleep is
clearly enough for health.

When the yogī awakens, he should at once resume noting. The yogī who is
really bent on attaining magga and
phala ñāna, should rest from meditation effort only when he is asleep. At
other times, in his waking moments, he should be noting continually and without
rest. That is why, as soon as he awakens, he should note the awakening state of
his mind as ‘awakening, awakening.’ If he cannot yet make himself aware of this,
he should begin noting the rising and falling of the abdomen.

If he intends to get up from bed, he should note as ‘intending to get up,
intending to get up.’ He should then go on to note the changing movements he
makes as be arranges his arms and legs. When he raises his head and rises, note
as ‘rising, rising’. When he is seated, note as ‘sitting, sitting.’ If he makes
any changing movements as he arranges his arms and legs, all of these movements
should also be noted. If there are no such changes, but only a sitting quietly,
he should revert to noting the rising and falling movements of the abdomen.

One should also note when one washes one’s face and when one takes a
bath. As the movements involved in these acts are rather quick, as many of them
should be noted as possible. There are then acts of dressing, of tidying up the
bed, of opening and closing the door; all these should also be noted as closely
as possible.

When the yogī has his meal and looks at the meal table, he should note as
‘looking, seeing, looking, seeing.’ When he extends his arm towards the food,
touches it, collects and arranges it, handles it and brings it to the mouth,
bends his head and puts the morsel of food into his mouth, drops his arm and
raises his head again, all these movements should be duly noted.

(This way of noting is in accordance with the Burmese way of taking a meal.
Those who use fork and spoon or chopsticks should note the movements in an
appropriate manner.)

When he chews the food, he should note as ‘chewing, chewing.’ When he
comes to know the taste of the food, he should note as ‘knowing, knowing.’ As he
relishes the food and swallows it, as the food goes down his throat, he should
note all these happenings. This is how the yogī should note as he takes one
morsel after another of his food. As he takes his soup, all the movements
involved such as extending of the arm, handling of the spoon and scooping with
it and so on, all these should be noted. To note thus at mealtime is rather
difficult as there are so many things to observe and note. The beginning yogī is
likely to miss several things which he should note, but he should resolve to
note all. He cannot of course help it if he overlooks and misses some, but as
his samādhi (concentration) becomes
strong, he will be able to note closely all these happenings.

Well, I have mentioned so many things for the yogī to note. But to
summarize, there are only a few things to note. When walking fast, note as
‘right step, left step,’ and as ‘raising, dropping’ when walking slowly. When
sitting quietly, just note the rising and falling of the abdomen. Note the same
when you are lying, if there is nothing particular to note. While noting thus
and if the mind wanders, note the acts of consciousness that arise. Then back to
the rising and falling of the abdomen. Note also the sensations of stiffness,
pain and ache, and itchiness as they arise. Then back to the rising and falling
of the abdomen. Note also, as they arise, the bending and stretching and moving
of the limbs, bending and raising of the head, swaying and straightening of the
body. Then back to the rising and falling of the abdomen.

As the yogī goes on noting thus, he will be able to note more and more of
these happenings in the beginning, as his mind wanders here and there, the yogī
may miss noting many things. But he should not be disheartened. Every beginner
in meditation encounters the same difficulty, but as he becomes more practised,
he becomes aware of every act of mind-wandering till eventually the mind does
not wander any more. The mind is then riveted on the object of its attention,
the act of mindfulness becoming almost simultaneous with the object of its
attention such as the rising and falling of the abdomen. (In other words the
rising of the abdomen becomes concurrent with the act of noting it, and
similarly with the falling of the abdomen .)

The physical object of attention and the mental act of noting are
occurring as a pair. There is in this occurrence no person or individual
involved, only this physical object of attention and the mental act of noting
occurring as a pair. The yogī will in time actually and personally experience
these occurrences. While noting the rising and falling of the abdomen he will
come to distinguish the rising of the abdomen as physical phenomenon and the
mental act of noting of it as psychical phenomenon; similarly with the falling
of the abdomen. Thus the yogī will distinctly come to realise the simultaneous
occurrence in pair of these psycho-physical phenomena.

Thus, with every act of noting, the yogī will come to know for himself
clearly that there are only this material quality which is the object of
awareness or attention and the mental quality that makes a note of it. This
discriminating knowledge is called
nāma-rūpa pariccheda ñāna, the beginning of the
vipassanā ñāna. It is important to gain this knowledge correctly. This will
be succeeded, as the yogī goes on, by the knowledge that distinguishes between
the cause and its effect, which knowledge is called paccaya-pariggaha ñāna.

As the yogī goes on noting, he will see for himself that what arises
passes away after a short while. Ordinary people assume that both the material
and mental phenomena go on lasting throughout life, that is, from youth to
adulthood. In fact, that is not so. There is no phenomenon that lasts for ever.
All phenomena arise and pass away so rapidly that they do not last even for the
twinkling of an eye. The yogī will come to know this for himself as he goes on
noting. He will then become convinced of the impermanence of all such phenomena.
Such conviction is called aniccānupassana
ñāna.

This knowledge will be succeeded by
dukkhānupassanā ñāna, which realises that all this impermanence is
suffering. The yogī is also likely to encounter all kinds of hardship in his
body, which is just an aggregate of sufferings. This is also
dukkhānupassanā ñāna. Next, the yogī will become convinced that all these
psycho-physical phenomena are occurring of their own accord, following nobody’s
will and subject to nobody’s control. They constitute no individual or ego
entity. This realisation is
anattānupassanā ñāna.

When, as he goes on meditating, the yogī comes to realise firmly that all
these phenomena are anicca,
dukkha
and anattā, he will attain Nibbāna. All the former Buddhas, Arahats and
Aryas realised Nibbāna following this very path. All meditating yogīs should
recognise that they themselves are now on this satipatthāna path, in fulfillment of their wish for attainment of
magga ñāna (knowledge of the path),
phala ñāna (knowledge of the fruition of the path) and Nibbāna-dhamma and
following the ripening of their pāramī
(perfection of virtue). They should feel glad at this and at the prospect of
experiencing the noble kind of samādhi
(tranquillity of mind brought about by concentration) and
ñāna
(supramundane knowledge or wisdom) experienced by the Buddhas, Arahats and
Arya and which they themselves have never experienced before.

It will not be long before they will experience for themselves the
magga ñāna, phala ñāna and Nibbana-dhamma experienced by the Buddhas,
Arahats and Aryas. As a matter of fact, these may be experienced in the space of
a month or of twenty or fifteen days of the meditation practice. Those whose pāramī is exceptional may experience these dhammas even within seven
days.

The yogī should therefore rest content in the faith that he will attain
these dhammas in the time specified above, that he will be freed of
sakkāya-ditthi
(ego-belief) and vicikicchā (doubt
or uncertainty) and saved from the danger of rebirth in the nether worlds. He
should go on with his meditation practice in this faith.

May you all be able to practise meditation well and quickly attain that
Nibbāna which the Buddhas, Arahats and Aryas have experienced!